When I looked up that time, Balidor had paled.
Wreg looked pissed off now, too, and so did Jon. I couldn’t tell who Jon was mad at, but it was pretty clear from Wreg’s face that most of his anger was aimed at Balidor.
“How are we going to resolve this?” I said.
I phrased it more as a demand than a question.
When no one spoke, I looked around at all of them again.
“Who do I go to, to resolve this?” I said. “The Council? Tarsi? Who the fuck is actually in charge here? And if it’s not me, who should I be giving my recommendations to?” My gaze swiveled back to the Adhipan leader. “Is it you, Balidor?”
I saw his light spark out as I stared at him, holding more emotion than maybe I’d ever seen on him, at least outside of a personal context. Realizing I’d just hit probably at the core of his identity, by questioning his loyalty, I only frowned.
Clicking, I stared down at the table, shaking my head.
“I can’t have this,” I said, looking up at them again. “I can’t fucking have this. Do you all understand what I am saying? If you want someone else in charge, then fucking put someone else in charge. Do you want Revik in charge again, like he was when I was gone? Fine. I’ll answer to Revik. No questions asked. If that’s what everyone wants, then that’s what we’ll do. But I’m not going to fucking deal with bullshit and dishonesty from my own team...”
When I looked around at them that time, they all looked pale.
Wreg shifted his weight on his feet, then looked around at the rest of them.
“Do we need to bring the Council into this?” I demanded.
The one person who hadn’t seemed to react as much as the others was the first to answer.
“No,” Chandre said, her voice hard.
Stepping forward from where she’d stood by the door to the interrogation room, she glared around at the rest of them, her arms crossed. “I love the Sword,” she said, jerking her chin forward as she spoke. “...I will follow him, if my Bridge commands it.” She stared directly at me. “But you are my leader, Esteemed Bridge. Not him.”
I felt a pulse of agreement off Wreg, who glared at Balidor.
“I second that,” Wreg said, his voice gruff.
Hearing the emotion there, I looked at him, then at Jon, who also looked angry.
Exhaling at the frustration I felt on Balidor’s light, as well as how closed he felt, I looked down at the table again, leaning on the surface of it with both of my palms.
“I know you are not happy with me, brother Balidor, for ganging up on you like this,” I said. I shook my head, clicking softly as I did. “But I chose to ask the question this way, first...with just a few of us...rather than to bring it to a public forum.” I looked up at him again, measuring the expression in his gray irises. “Perhaps I should ask you this. Do you agree that we have a problem in our command structure?”
I saw a different look flicker across Balidor’s eyes, even as some of the anger left his light and his facial expression.
After another pause, where I watched him think, he abruptly relaxed.
“Yes,” he said, exhaling.
“Then what do you propose?” I said, my voice harder. “What would you suggest to me, assuming you wish to offer your advice?”
Balidor seemed to think about that, too.
That time, again, I watched as a deeper understanding penetrated his face and his light, in a way that it hadn’t before, especially not last night on the pier when we talked.
“I think you are correct,” Balidor said, even as I thought it. He raised his eyes, meeting my gaze directly. I felt the apology in his light, even before he voiced it. “You have my sincere apology, Esteemed Bridge. You are absolutely correct that I acted wrongly in this...and that the current situation is untenable. I have inadvertently caused the situation today, by permitting information to become segmented, rather than ensuring that it reached you, and your entire leadership team, unfiltered.”
Pausing, Balidor frowned slightly, his eyes growing distant once more as he seemed to be thinking more concretely about this.
“...If you will permit me a few hours,” he continued, saluting with one hand. “I would like to attempt to contact the leader of the Children of the Bridge.”
Wreg rounded on him at that, his nearly-black eyes holding a thinly disguised fury.
“You fucker. You are in contact with them?”
Balidor’s jaw hardened perceptibly, but his gaze never wavered from mine.
“If you will give me that time, Esteemed Sister,” he continued, his voice still deferential. “...I will ask her permission directly, if I may be released from the oath I gave her, that I would disclose nothing about her people...or about her...to any living soul.” He hesitated, his eyes holding that apology once more. “...Including you, Esteemed Bridge.”
I blinked, surprised.
Then, turning over his words, I gave him a seer’s nod.
“Granted,” I said.
He nodded to that once, then met my gaze again.
“I will also speak to Tarsi,” he added, his eyes holding an additional meaning. “...About the other question you asked me...regarding your husband’s light, and the fears we have about its potential interactions with Menlim’s construct.”
That time, I felt my light open for real.
“Thank you,” I said, nodding again. “I would very much appreciate it. Especially since I still intend for us to attempt an extraction in Dubai.”
For a longer pause, no one moved, or spoke.
Then I sighed again. “There’s one more thing,” I said. I straightened from the table, feeling something in my shoulders relax, but only just.
“And what is that, Esteemed Bridge?” Wreg said, his voice cautious once more.
I looked around at all of them, clicking a little in amusement at the wariness I saw there.
“Lily,” I said. “I want to know when Lily can start to leave the tank. On a trial basis.” I cleared my throat, combing my fingers through my hair, realizing only then that it was still damp from the shower I’d taken. Clicking softly, I shook my head. “At the very least, she needs contact with other kids. Revik and I have talked about it, and we simply can’t be in there as much as we’d like. I know everyone pitches in, and we both appreciate that...but we want her to have play dates. With other kids. Human, if there are no other seer kids. Ideally, she’d be able to play in the actual ship, too, not be stuck in that damned tank all the time...but we’ll take whatever we can get for now. Whatever passes security muster.”
Another silence fell over the room.
That time, when I looked at Jon, I saw understanding in his eyes. I saw it in Wreg’s too, even as a smile toyed at the edges of his lips.
Somehow, just in feeling Wreg and Jon’s shift, that hotter current in my light began to relax. I felt my own relief intensify...maybe because they all seemed so relieved I wasn’t going to quit. I turned my eyes on Balidor then, and saw his eyes holding more understanding, as well.
I could see him thinking, too, but I couldn’t read which direction his thoughts were turning behind that more open expression of understanding.
“Well?” I said. “Balidor?”
He nodded, once, his jaw suddenly firm. “Yes,” he said.
“Yes, what?” I said, my voice slightly sharper.
“Yes...Esteemed Bridge,” he said, smiling.
Seeing his expression, I exhaled again, giving a short laugh in spite of myself. “That’s not what I meant, Adhipan Balidor...and I’m pretty sure you know that.”
Balidor returned my smile, but I saw something else in his eyes, too, something that lingered in the background, reminding me of what I glimpsed on him during my confrontation with Revik in the security station.
“We will arrange it,” he said simply. “Give me twelve hours, Esteemed Bridge...then we will arrange for regular time for your daughter to at least get exposure to other children. I will have them look i
nto more ways we might let her out of the tank on a limited basis, too.”
Feeling something in my heart loosen, something that had been pounding and cracking there for weeks now, I leaned back, gripping the backs of two of the metal chairs. Briefly, I found myself fighting tears, but that pain in my chest was worse. It felt good, that pain, but it also seemed to let everything out all at once, catching me off-guard.
I couldn’t quite let Balidor off the hook though, even now.
Are you ever going to really trust me, ‘Dori? I asked him, my thoughts quiet.
He turned, looking at me directly with those light gray eyes.
After a faint silence, where I felt and heard nothing in return from his light, his words rose, equally quiet, in my own mind.
I do trust you, Esteemed Bridge, he sent softly. I wish you knew how much.
I frowned a little, my eyes still focused on his.
Clicking, he only shook his head. I will do as you command. I vow it, sister. Just as I swear my loyalty to you.
I nodded, but felt my chest start to hurt a second time. Sorry for doing it like this, I sent, quieter. You didn’t leave me a lot of choice, ‘Dori.
He nodded, once, his eyes distant once more.
I know I didn’t, Esteemed Bridge, he said only.
Looking at that expressionless face, I realized he meant that, too.
14
I KNOW BUT I DON’T KNOW
SUNLIGHT FLASHED OVERHEAD, peppered by shadow, then banded by it.
The flickers confused Loki at first.
Then, when he could feel his body again, that jerking motion of shadow and light added to the sickness pooling in his gut. He let out a groan, feeling hands on him, hearing the deafening whir of rotors. Then, someone grabbed hold of him, hoisting him up.
The abrupt change, happening so fast, it seems to wash through him deeper than the shadows can manage, and then––
––he gasps, feeling as if a long breath had gone by, little more.
Not much time at all. No time.
But now there is ceiling overhead, not simply sky and those dizzying, sickening, whirring blades. He gasps as pain shoots up his leg and his shoulder. Loki feels hands on him again, but they seem to be acting with purpose.
He recognizes Kalgi’s face briefly, then Illeg...that large seer, Rex...
The names come to him, absent of meaning...even absent of context.
He fights to breathe, still feeling that moment stretch, lost in a silence that makes his breaths deafening in his own ears, but he can still hear that dull heartbeat of blades, thudding through the sky overhead, pulsing and whining under the air, the same air they shove and push into a thick eddy to bring the whole vessel upward.
His nausea returns, even as the pain worsens around his head. He sees Illeg with something in her mouth, a tube of what might be glass or plastic. Her eyes meet his, a grim apology, and then she slams the needle into his leg. He lets out a gasp and then––
And then...
There are more and thens...
More and more, faster than the spinning rotors.
More and faster than he can count.
Some are sharp, clear, like that beautiful, sickening but mesmerizing play of sunlight and shadow over the bright pink of a sunset-kissed sky, its purple clouds bleeding stars at the corners. Some are vague, faces and sounds, hands on him, groping, hurting him, but with the light of their owners warming him, too.
Some feel fanciful, at least half imagined, with sunlight shimmering through pink cherry blossoms, golden-white oceans sparkling with diamonds near a rock stuck like it had been dropped just off the shore from high, reddish-orange cliffs.
The ocean teemed, and he could feel the presence of its creatures in every part of his body, humming with life and light, singing to him in the further reaches of his mind.
He knew it must be fanciful, that it couldn’t be real.
He watched more of those and thens come and go, and eventually, somewhere in that primordial soup between consciousness and oblivion, he finally let oblivion take him.
THE NEXT TIME Loki woke, he had a better sense of who he was.
The thudding of the blades had stopped...but he still felt as though he were moving, as if the ground shifted somewhere distantly beneath his back. He found himself staring up at a white ceiling with rust stains moving out from metal brackets over the main panels.
After a few moments of fighting to focus his eyes, feeling his nausea return in increasing waves, he could smell brine, too, and hear the distant cry of what might have been gulls.
Of course, his mind might have invented the latter part.
He had been dreaming of that golden ocean, or so he thought. The image came close enough to the conscious areas of his mind that the transition felt weirdly smooth, despite the dullness of the light in comparison to what he’d witnessed from behind his eyes.
He remembered black birds, too. Green and black, with iridescent wings.
Cormorants, they were called.
“What, no pelicans?” a familiar-sounding voice said.
Loki turned his head, squinting into an instantly brighter light. It struck him that maybe he’d spoken aloud, that he’d been caught by the human soldiers tracking him...then the light’s brightness began to roll backwards into a more manageable glow.
“Your prince is awake,” the same voice said ruefully. “Damned lucky, too. We’d have to try adrenaline next...and he wouldn’t have thanked us for that.”
The voice hadn’t spoken to him that time, but to someone else.
Loki fought to clear his throat. He even moved, he imagined, somewhere in the less aware part of his mind, fighting to sit up, but a strong, cool hand and set of fingers found his forehead, pressing him back down to the bed.
“Don’t get any ideas, brother,” the voice said, leaking amusement.
That time, Loki realized he did know the voice. Further, he could feel the relief in her light, the affection she aimed at him when she spoke to him next.
“She’s been waiting for you,” she said, switching to Prexci. Mika’s voice turned teasing, even as she eased his head back to the pillow. “The crazy worm won’t leave, brother...”
That time, Loki’s eyes attempted to follow Mika’s dark blue ones.
He found himself staring at the white-gold rim of those nearly black irises for a few seconds first, noticing them clearly for the first time.
Somewhere in that lingering stare, he felt anger, though, not from Mika herself, but from somewhere else in the room.
Following the scent of that light––as well as Mika’s own stare, which continued to aim in the same direction––Loki focused his eyes past Mika’s strong, Asian features to the subject of her stare instead. A low bench stood there, what looked to be made of well-worn wood missing most of its paint. Resting his face sideways, Loki tried to raise his head a second time when he saw the face that stood almost directly in his new line of sight.
His eyes met another pair of eyes, those also dark.
Brown with flecks of green and gold, so perhaps hazel, technically, but he found himself too lost in the subtleties of light and dark in her irises and pupils to be able to decide on a precise color, or to name it, anyway.
The face that wore those eyes nearly took the breath out of his lungs, in part because he could feel her light now, too...or, more accurately, he could connect the familiarity of that light to her face, to who she was, to the body she wore. A more visceral reaction hit him in the same set of seconds, even as that nausea he’d been feeling abruptly worsened.
For the first time, he also connected that nausea to something outside of himself.
Above him, Mika laughed.
Loki barely heard it.
He remembered dreams that featured this woman’s face, those same green and gold flecked eyes that were human but not. He wondered now if those dreams had been real, as well. Why was she here? Why did she sit there, looking at him? Why did she frown a
t the hands that Mika held on his shoulder and forehead?
Trying to sit up again, Loki let out a low groan.
That time, the human woman regained her feet, pausing almost in a fighter’s crouch on the other side of Mika. Loki could feel her wanting to speak, but also her confusion. She wondered why she was there, too. She wondered, but a larger part of her refused to leave. It felt as if she’d been having this same argument with herself for awhile now.
“She won’t leave,” Mika repeated in Prexci, lowering her mouth to his ear.
Mika massaged his shoulder sensually with one hand, and Loki felt another stab of pain from the woman, enough to make him writhe under Mika’s fingers. He missed some of what the other seer said to him, picking up only the tail end of her words.
“...her to leave?” she finished.
“What?” Loki said, still staring at the human woman past Mika’s arm.
Mika clicked at him, but the sound was light, more teasing than usual.
“I said, you need to stay awake,” Mika said in Prexci, her voice holding more amusement than patience. “If she can keep you awake...if you can make her understand this, I’ll leave the two of you alone.”
Raising her head, Mika grinned at him, again exuding relief. She massaged his chest again, and Loki closed his eyes, fighting back a stronger response when he felt another flush of irritation from the human. Mika winked at him, glancing up at the human, and obviously feeling the woman’s irritation, too.
“I admit, it’s a bit of a turn-on, being around the two of you,” Mika mused. “...but as I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment, it’s kind of annoying, too, brother.”
“Stop it,” Loki said, also speaking in Prexci. “You’re angering her.”
“Oh, I know I am, brother. You should have seen her earlier, when I was washing off your leg. I really thought she might attack me...”
For the first time, Loki jerked his eyes off the human, looking up at Mika. More than anything, he still felt confused. His body and light had scattered in those few seconds, and his nausea grew almost unbearable as he stared up at the Asian seer’s face.
Clicking at him bemusedly, Mika switched to English.
Allie's War Season Four Page 91